I hung suspended over a vat of acid,
the evil arch-villainess threatening to drop me into it at any moment unless
I revealed the secret codes that would unlock the computer systems controlling
our nuclear missiles…

…only to pull vainly against the
webs spun about me by the strange spider woman as she secured me, preventing
me from delivering the message that would save the army and all the world…

…to suddenly pull against the swinging
hammock that Captain Lydia the Fierce and her all-female pirate crew had
sewn me into after taking my ship and capturing me to be their slave on
their secret island…

…to suddenly groan into my gag as
the vibrator attached below my testicles suddenly came to life again, bringing
me back from my wild fantasies to the here and now. Don’t get me
wrong, being bound and gagged by my wife is more than enough to get me
going and keep me interested. But being bound, gagged, blindfolded
and then made to wait as she watched “Fried Green Tomatoes” was enough
to cause my mind to drift without too much purpose. I hadn’t been
interested in seeing the movie when it first came out, had managed not
to see it on my dish, and would have found another room to be in had I
not been in my present state. Of course, not being able to see does
tend to limit interest in a visual media, so the dialog I did catch didn’t
always make a whole lot of sense.

But Lydia had brought me out of
my momentary diversion, and I dearly hoped that the movie was nearly over.
I struggled against my bonds as the vibrator continued its work, my erection
returning to full strength after having sagged slightly from a period of
being ignored. The hammock supporting me swayed in a way that made
it obvious that there was no chance at all of gaining sufficient leverage
for me to escape. That only made me feel more helpless, which only
served to excite me all the more. After a few minutes of futilely
floundering about, the vibrator turned off and hands stopped my thrashing
a bit.

“I’ll let you listen to the credits
music while I go to the bathroom,” Lydia said softly into my ear.
“Then we’ll see what kind of mood I’m in, OK?”

I tried saying “Be horny,” but I
know that didn’t come across in any useful form of sounds, heard Lydia
laugh, and then felt the hands end their contact with me. Because
it was both stimulating and more than a little fun, I went back to struggling.
Floating as I was in the hammock and straps, the sensation was more than
a bit like I was flying. I think I heard another laugh, but with
the rustling of the plastic and distraction of struggling, I couldn’t really
be sure.

After a short struggle, I finally
tired enough to stop. After all, Lydia was likely to be in either
a teasing or playful mood, otherwise I wouldn’t still be like I was.
Either way, I didn’t want to waste my strength now. The hammock rocked
back and forth a bit, resonating from the motion of my previous struggles,
but the sound died down and the music from the television was now clear
in my ears. Maybe even a bit on the loud side, I thought to myself,
though I couldn’t blame Lydia for having the volume up – with me struggling
next to her, that noise could have interfered with the dialog.

I heard a door, which sounded a
bit distant, but that wasn’t much of a surprise given that there was plastic
over my ears. But then I heard something that caused me to renew
my struggles.

“Lydia? I heard the music
so I let myself in. I hope… Oh, good lord!”

Jane’s voice was rapidly followed
by the sound of a toilet flushing and another door opening.

“Jane? What the hell?
What happened to your date?”

The consternation in Lydia’s voice
was clear enough, even through the plastic wrap. The gag hadn’t been
wrapped securely into my mouth, so I’m sure that the blush that I could
feel spread across my face as heat was also plain to anyone taking the
time to look.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry Lydia.
We were at a nightclub not far from here, but Dave was in a terrible mood
and exhausted,” I heard Jane say.

As she spoke, I felt a blanket
or afghan suddenly cover my exposed penis, which had started to shrink
from its erect state a bit. Then the naughty part of my brain started
conjuring up images of these two attractive women and that ceased.
I pushed that aside as best I could and tried not to move at all, the first
because regardless of the fantasy I was happily married and actually hoped
that they didn’t come to fruition. The second to prevent the joy
of struggling helplessly from arousing me more. Jane continued.

“He got laid off today – bloody
outsourcing. But before his layoff is effective, he gets to shut
down the call center and let everyone reporting to him go. He had
to start telling people today, and no matter what I did I couldn’t get
him out of his funk.”

Lydia’s voice came to me as a whisper
in my ear – “Let me see where this is going and we’ll figure out what to
do next, OK?” I nodded, recognizing that it would be a lot of work
to get me loose and Jane might not be here for too long. Then I heard
her say in a normal voice, “So you came over here and let yourself in?
What did you think we’d be up to after the way you left me?”

The tone was still irritated, but
not as angry. Jane’s voice came back with a strained and apologetic
sound.

“I know, Lydia. I’m sorry.
I was just going to drop you a note on the front door, but I heard the
music from the TV and saw that the lights were on in the living room even
though the blinds were down. So I figured you’d finished up and were
watching a movie.”

There was an awkward silence for
a moment, and I could almost see my wife staring at her best friend.
Lydia’s got a stare that is amazing in its focus – when she looks at you
with it, you can sometimes feel as though your skin and bones are becoming
transparent and your very thoughts are visible. She doesn’t use it
often, because it’s obvious and distinctly impolite. But right now
I could see the look in her eyes. Then I heard her laugh a little.

“It has been about eight or nine
hours since you got me – which you’ll pay for somehow, mind you.
Let me figure out what Ray wants to do and then we can talk, OK?
Go in the bedroom while I do that.”

“I’m so sorry, Ray. I’ll get
out of your hair if you want,” I heard Jane say, then the sound of heels
on the floor. Then I felt the gag deflate in my mouth. Lydia
worked it out of my mouth and through the netting around my face.

I had to think for a minute before
I responded. Jane’s seen me tied up before, and even tied me up herself
once including attaching the vibrator to my manhood. She’s also been
a good friend to both of us, and while I wasn’t wild about how the situation
developed, it was pretty much inevitable that it was going to happen one
of these days.

“If we can keep the conversation
short, then leave me like this. If it’s going to go for a bit, then
get me out of sight or cut me loose. I can’t change what happened,
but I don’t want to be a piece of furniture for an hour or two while you
two chatter. And I’m going to need to pee sometime.”

Lydia laughed a light, airy laugh
that reminded me why I loved her. She somehow managed to kiss me
through the netting, then said “Let me talk to Jane and get a feel for
how long this could go.”

I was alone for a minute or two,
and the fantasy part of my brain (which seemed to be in overdrive now)
conjured up images of Lydia and Jane in the other room finalizing plans
for my disposition. They weren’t friend and wife, but Russian agents
sent to this country to perform corporate espionage and learn how to exploit
weaknesses in our currency exchange and credit card systems. I shook
my head to try getting the image out of my mind (failing), which caused
my plastic and netting prison to sway seductively. Both the image
and the motion worked their charms on me, and my erection began to rise
yet again.

I don’t know if whoever it was had
been trying to surprise me or I was just significantly distracted that
I didn’t hear the sound of feet on the floor, but I suddenly felt the gag
at my mouth again. The degree that my submissive side had arisen
became instantly apparent – I opened my mouth without even thinking as
the gag threaded its way through the netting of the hammock, then was quickly
inflated. As it was, I could hear the sound of furniture moving on
the floor. I was about to be let down from my suspension, obviously,
and both Jane and Lydia were working on it simultaneously.

Still, I was surprised when it was
Jane’s voice in my ear. “You really are a trooper, Ray. I’ve
got to find a way for you to talk to Dave one of these days.”

I tried to say “Don’t you dare tell
him a thing about this,” but the results with the gag inflated (perhaps
a bit too much) were predictable. Both Lydia and Jane laughed, and
suddenly I was the computer guru at the mercy of those Russian spies again
and I moaned.

The sound of furniture moving continued
under me, then I felt the strap suspending my feet being loosened.
The swung slowly down until they came into contact with what had to be
a section of the sofa, since it was too soft and too wide to be one of
the footstools. Once they touched, bending slightly, the strap under
my thighs was slowly released. This process was repeated moving up
my body until I was safely on two sections of our sofa.

“This could take a little while,
lover,” Lydia said once I was down and the straps were being completely
removed, “so I’m going to make sure that you’re properly attended to.”

I groaned and struggled somewhat
feebly, my brain adding a Russian accent and picturing Jane over at my
laptop working to break through my password and encryption scheme to recover
the data they were looking for.

The two of them had more than a
few laughs as they tried to coordinate sliding the sofa sections over towards
the bedroom. While the straps were gone, I was still mummified except
for a bit of skin on my neck and face, then wrapped in the net that had
once been our hammock, and they apparently liked it that way. The
sections slid apart a few times and I felt the section with my feet (which
was the part closest to the bedroom door) bumped into a wall. The
two giggled like schoolgirls at the situation, but managed to get me into
position without too much delay.

Now, we’ve all seen the comics where
the caveman captures his woman, then drags her back to his cave by her
hair. I suddenly had a bit of sympathy for the cavewoman as my feet
were dragged off the sofa section and lowered gently to the floor.
The two slid my body to the ground gradually, using the hammock as a grip.
One of them was careful to keep the blanket over my penis, though I figured
that had become somewhat superfluous at this point.

“This would have been a pain without
the hammock, huh?” Jane’s voice had a playful tone that you might
normally associate with a small child doing something that they probably
shouldn’t be doing. The hint of “Ooooohhhhh, we could get in sooo
much trouble,” struck me as funny, and I laughed into my gag.

“Apparently, someone agrees with
you,” came Lydia’s voice. My body finally was fully on the floor,
and they slid me into the bedroom a good distance. Then they reversed
course and turned me at the same time so that I was next to the bed with
my head where it should be.

“How do you want to do this?” asked
Jane.

“Grab right around his knees.
I’ll get his shoulders. Don’t leave much slack, or we’ll have to
lift higher.”

I felt hands grab the hammock at
the appropriate spots, then heard grunting as the two of them started lifting
me off the floor. I’m no athlete, but I’m still close to 200 pounds,
so it was at least a bit of work for them to get me up and onto the bed.
Fortunately, there were no slips or bounces to make me nervous about being
dropped.

Of course, my libidinously inspired
imagination had me being loaded by the Russian agents onto a wooden crate
bottom covered with padding for shipping off to some distant hideaway for
more thorough interrogation.

“Wait in the other room for me,
Jane. I’ve got it from here.”

The blanket came off my midsection,
and I felt some fiddling with the hammock around me, and wondered what
was coming next. I didn’t have to wait too long. The net started
to move slightly to my left about my legs, then stopped. This was
repeated at the level of my chest on that side, and I wondered what could
possibly be going on. Then I felt the hammock tighten up on the right
and it hit me. The cargo straps had been hooked into the hammock
netting and were being pulled tight, probably looping around the legs of
the bed since I could feel very even pressure as the hammock was pulled
tight about me.

The cargo straps turned the hammock
that suspended me into a very effective trap holding me down to the bed,
tightening as Lydia increased the tension on them. The hammock stretched
a bit, then had no choice but to pull against me. The sensation repeated
itself to my right at around shoulder and chest height, and suddenly the
spider imagery struggled to work its way back into my imagination.
The Russian spy theme won out, though, and I could see the evil leader
of the espionage group as she secured me to the bottom of the crate for
shipping.

The process was finally completed
at my head and feet, pinning me to the bed with very little room to struggle.
I couldn’t lift any part of my body more than a millimeter or two, and
that took a great deal of straining on my part. I pulled as wildly
as I could, but it was no use. My erection was now back full force.

A gentle caress touched my penis
and I started, moaning.

“Such a shame to have to cover this
up, but I don’t want the bed any messier than it already is. After
all, I may be tired after talking with Jane and need to go right to sleep.”

My wife’s words inspired more struggling
and attempts at talking. I tried telling her to forget that Jane
was in the other room and use me right now. I even begged her to
kick Jane out so that she could use me repeatedly. My only answer
was a slight chuckle and the feeling of condoms going over my shaft.
Lydia was hooking me up to the clamps and hose so that I could go to the
bathroom without being released. I groaned as she rolled them down
my shaft, and was close to cumming right then until she spoke again.

“No letting go now, silly boy.
Or I’ll be very, very cross.”

I froze in my struggles and tried
pushing all erotic thoughts out of my mind. I thought about the Cubs
and how I wished they could summon up a winning streak by having their
offense wake up now that their pitching was back approaching full strength.
That only sort of worked, so I tried to imagine Lydia’s mother dropping
by unannounced right about now. That did the trick.

I guess that that thought process
took longer than it appeared because I suddenly felt the condoms pull down
on my penis, bringing it into contact with my wrapped body. The hose
clamps were secure and I was now safe to “go” whenever I wanted to.
I moaned and struggled again as hands brushed lightly over me, creating
a staccato rhythm as they bounced lightly over the rope netting pulling
me into the mattress. I strained to bring those hands into contact
with my erogenous zones and bring me relief, but there was no hope of that.
The net held me all but immobile in the plastic cocoon that held my limbs
together.

“Now, now, you did ask for this
if I wanted to talk. And I feel like talking.”

The vibrator under my testicles
sprung to life suddenly, causing me to groan loudly and try to move again.

“I just don’t feel like talking
to you, that’s all.”

As I struggled, I felt her place
something on my chest, just to the left of center towards the edge of the
bed. It promptly fell over and rolled onto the floor with a loud
“thunk” and rattling noise.

“Excellent. There’s your safeword,
slave. Make that fall on the floor again and I’ll be in to check
on you. But if it’s not an emergency, you might just extend your
stay…”

The can (filled with some coins,
I guessed) was replaced on my chest and I lay still for a moment.
I couldn’t really hear much, but I guessed that Lydia had left because
all contact ceased. The Russian agent scenario suddenly sprung back
to mind, with me held helpless as the leader went to check on the progress
of her subordinate. I could vaguely hear talking, and heard Lydia
more clearly as she (apparently) walked to the kitchen saying, “You want
some wine?”

I could make out occasionally snippets
of conversation and laughs, but not much else. I worked to hold still,
the fantasy scenario having left me with an armed grenade lying gently
on my chest ready to explode if it fell to the ground. But when the
vibrator went on, I couldn’t help myself. The utter helplessness
of my situation, the fact that I knew my wife was out talking with her
best friend (and that even she was well aware of my predicament), and the
images my own mind formed for me were more than enough to make struggling
not just an option, but a necessity.

After the first time, I managed
to relax and I felt myself urinate. Somehow, that release was close
enough to a sexual one that the moment seemed to lessen a bit in the sexual
area. The can still sat upon my chest, though I’d felt it start to
tip more than once as I had bounced and struggled in my bonds. I
couldn’t really guess at how long I’d been this way, but I figured it had
to be at least twenty minutes by now and perhaps a bit longer. I
was beginning to get a bit thirsty, and tried to make a decision as to
how long I’d go until I purposefully caused the can to fall so that I could
get a drink. The Russian agent scenario began creeping back into
the forefront of my mind, with a bottle of cold water being held in contact
with my trapped form, mine for the asking if I would just give up passwords
and details. I shook my head, the fantasy becoming so strong that
I responded physically to it…

…and that’s when the vibrator managed
to go on again. The timing was as though Lydia had read my mind as
to when I would be most vulnerable and chosen that very second to renew
my torture. I groaned quite loudly now, and without thinking struggled
wildly. Within seconds, the can was off my chest and making an even
louder noise as it struck the floor. The vibrator instantly turned
off and I tried to stop struggling (succeeding only slightly) and rapidly
heard Lydia’s voice growing louder as she walked into the room towards
me. “Are you okay? Ray?”

I settled down and nodded, hoping
that the netting permitted me sufficient movement to make my answer clear.
Apparently it was, since I suddenly heard the sound of the can shaking
by my ear.

“You interrupted my conversation
for nothing? Tsk, tsk. I guess you just aren’t learning.
I’ll tell you what, I’ll get Jane to go if you’ll promise something for
her and then we can see to your punishment more effectively. OK?”

I nodded again, wondering what could
be coming.

“She’s borrowing that old book I
was reading the first time I talked you into tying me up, and a few more
that I’ve picked up since. She wants you to get together with Dave
to help him find a job and lift his spirits. If he brings up the
subject, you’ll encourage him to try and share as much as you feel comfortable.”

Her hands returned to my body, starting
at my toes and moving upwards slowly. I moaned and squirmed.

“Otherwise, I might just have to
find another movie to watch with her…”

I nodded, though to be honest I
might have agreed to give up my soul at that particular moment. I
was extremely excited and nearly desperate for more personal attention.
The can was suddenly returned to my chest and her voice whispered in my
ear, “Then you’ll just have to give me a few minutes to get her out the
door.”

I lay as still as I could, though
the vibrator went on again and made that impossible. I did manage
to keep the can on my chest, but it was a close thing and not likely to
get any easier. I vaguely heard Jane shout goodbye, and then waited,
my erection standing nearly straight up and begging for further attention.

I was surprised when that attention
came in the form of Lydia mounting me without any other preliminaries,
the vibrator still humming away. She knocked the can off my chest
and said, “You let it fall again, silly slave,” as she pressed herself
closely to me and began rocking up and down. I stilled myself, wanting
this to last.

“I guess I’ll just have to punish
you even more once I’m done having my fun…”

As I began to move with her as much
as my bindings allowed, I heard that with a Russian accent.

09.08.05

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